


You Can Have Me Tonight

by Schmuzz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood Bond, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, M/M, Oral Sex, Vampire: The Masquerade - Freeform, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-03-26 20:04:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13865028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/pseuds/Schmuzz
Summary: Ever since the accident, Michael was... different. Physically? He was doing great. No more hangovers, he didn't even need his glasses anymore, and endless shifts at the nearby diner barely tired him out. But in every other way, he felt half empty. And no amount of drinking and partying and going home with random strangers was going to change that. Right?





	1. Chapter 1

Michael resisted the urge to bite at his thumbnail; it was a gross habit when he was working in the kitchen, not that his last remaining table was the eating sort. Dark clothes with a boho finish, obviously coming from some artsy show downtown. The restaurant was a BYOB, and this couple seemed more than content to only drink their bottle of wine, two house salads sitting to the side, untouched.

“I hate Thursdays,” he muttered to the kitchen window behind him.

“You hate staying late,” Jeremy, one of the cooks, replied easily. “Got a hot date tonight or something?”

“Or something. Not really. Wanted to go out.”

“Don’t you always want to go out?” Michael shrugged, and deciding that the pair in the corner probably weren’t going to tip anyway, turned fully towards Jeremy and bit off the jagged end of his nail. “Listen, no judgement, you know I like to knock a few back at the end of the night, but –”

“But what?” Jeremy looked down, suddenly very concerned with how he was cutting up lemon slices.

 “You go out alone, man, late at night. Around here? It’s stupid. Not safe.”

 “It’s fine – I’m careful.” Jeremy reached for another lemon and sliced it in half with more force than necessary.

 “Lots of people are careful,” Jeremy muttered. “Doesn’t always pan out.” Michael sighed. He couldn’t even argue that point.

“Would you feel better if I kept in touch with you?” Michael ventured. “Like, text you when I get home?”

“Yeah, actually. Will you remember?”

Jeremy had been working at this place before Michael got his job as a server, but they made fast friends; both being from the east coast, a long way from home, and with little in the way of family or friends. Michael liked Jeremy. He was funny, down for stupid shit, played a lot of video games, and he was amazing at whipping up the perfect drunk food when they hung out late into the night. Sometimes, Michael got the feeling that Jeremy wanted something more from him, but he could never tell if that was a sense of motherly instincts or something more romantic. Either way, Michael wasn’t interested. If it was the former, he didn’t need to be babysat; and if it was the latter…

He and Jeremy wouldn’t work out. He didn’t know why, specifically, but he just _knew._ It was a predecessor to a dead end.

“I’ll try my best,” he promised. Jeremy nodded. “So, like. If I closed out right now…” The cook sighed, and looked past Michael to the couple in the corner.

 “Sure, I’ll handle it. Not like they’re gonna tip anyways.” Michael grinned.

 “You’re the best, J.” He ducked into the kitchen and through a small door where the employees kept their stuff. He had brought a change of clothes with him, and made quick work of undressing in the cramped locker room. He folded up his uniform and tugging on dark jeans and a t-shirt, replacing his skidless shoes for a pair of converse. He was out of the restaurant in less than five minutes, zipping up his jacket and hailing a cab headed downtown. That couple was just leaving as a car pulled up for him.

 They glanced at him, pale faces shining like the waning moon above him. They looked as if they wanted to say something, get his attention, but he got in and slammed the door shut before they had the chance.

“Where to?” the driver said. Michael mentally flicked through his favorite spots downtown: cheapest drinks, best music, least dickish people…

“Take me to Confession.”

 

-

 

Though Ryan had mostly stopped thinking on the perilous struggles of mortals around the same time he had shed his own coil of that particular strain, he had to lend a stray thought to the process Meg must have undergone before he met her. Getting a large cathedral transformed into a night club, in this city no less, must have been a process that dove deep into illicit waters. Actually, there was no _must_ about it, he thought with a twist to his mouth, considering the Russian mobsters he had to put down on her behalf, back when he first met her.

He sighed, pushing open one of the roughly cut doors to the club, trying to remember how it felt when  taking down a bunch of angry humans armed with machine guns was the most taxing part of his night. How long ago that seemed.

“Hey stranger,” Meg was in her usual spot at the bar, wearing her bartending garb, which consisted of a tight black shirt and cut off shorts, red hair piled on top of her head as she poured a pair of shots – sliding one right over to him and downing her own. “House rules,” she reminded him with a smile. “And I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Ryan shrugged. “I’ve been busy, you could say.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Could say – you’re already my business partner, what more trouble are you running into?” Ryan, never one to hide any emotion or impulsive behavior, was quick to wince.

“Nothing I want to get into.” The music, loud, blaring, something anyone could easily dance to, seemed to surge in volume, because Meg leaned over the bar, squinting in confusion.

“What?” she shouted. “Can’t hear you! Come into my office!” With that she heaved herself off of the wood of the bar, walking along the side of the room and unlocking a door. Ryan followed, leaving the shot at the bar untouched.

“Now, that’s better,” she said, once Ryan shut the door behind them. “Could hardly hear myself think.”

 “I wish some loud music could do that for me,” he mused, drawing a laugh out of Meg.

“Well if you want to take up bartending for me some nights, be my guest. It’s actually good that we’re in here. Your cut has been piling up, put it away in my safe.” She wandered over to a hanging picture, bumping it to the side and putting in a combination. She came back with a sizeable wad of bills. “There you are. Should all be there. Come back soon for your next cut – and I do mean soon.” She handed him the cash. He flipped through it – about two grand. Not bad.

“When rent’s next due, I’ll swing by,” he said with a sharp grin.

“Ha-ha. Is that where you’ve been? Moving to a new place?” Well. He had actually found a new haven not long after… everything. It was something of a safety move; he didn’t want any remnants of any vampire faction – the Sabbat, Kuei-jin, or Camarilla – using old information to try to get the jump on him. But he couldn’t lie to himself; after crawling around in various hotels and apartment complexes all over the city, he figured he ought to move out of his old shit hole into something a bit more befitting of the ‘legendary upstart vampire’ status he had attained over the last few months.

“Got a nice spot downtown,” was all Ryan managed. He pointed the wad of bills at her. “This? It’s gonna turn into my new living room set.” He rolled up the bills and stuffed them into his jeans pocket.

“You always had a way with words. Well, you should invite me over sometime, make it a homecoming party. Or better yet, we can skip the homecoming, and do the party here.”

“Sounds festive, but I should probably be heading out. The night calls me, you know.” He waved his hand.

Meg let out a fond-sounding huff, crossing her arms and cocking her hip out. “Busy as usual. Alright, well, I should get back to my post. Hope to see you sometime before the next century, hm?”

“I make no promises.”

Meg wandered back to the bar, and Ryan nearly passed her before realizing that he well and truly had nowhere he needed to go. There was always the Last Round, to talk with the Anarchs, or a few other spots where some remaining independent vampires and clans still lived, but without the influence of the Kuei-Jin or the Camarilla vampires, and without that ingenious sarcophagus plot driving everyone as mad as he was with anxiety and premonitions, there wasn’t much for him to do. No more wild goose chases, no more suicide missions, no one to report to or win the favor of. Despite still being called a fledgling, he was somewhat certain that he had become one of the most powerful vampires in the state, even if that was by the mere virtue of killing off some of his competitors.

Well, with great power came a shit load of nothing to do. With a small shrug to himself, he turned on his heel and got to the dance floor.

Less vampires in the city and the end of a multi-clan blood feud meant that crime had gone down, and the humans were less skittish. More people were out on the street late at night these days, and the Confession club was packed; it was easy enough to sway and dance, mindlessly blending in with the throngs of people, jumping and swaying. Their shouts and laughter, the loud chatter carrying from the bar, the pump of music, it all fed back to his own mind, as if they had surfaced from his thoughts. He hadn’t been this carefree in what felt like eons.

Half in a trance, he was nearly knocked to the ground when a human crashed into him. “Sorry, sorry,” the young man was saying, hands on Ryan’s shoulders as he regained his balance. “Kinda lost my footing, there. You alright?” Ryan’s own hands went to the man’s arms, tugging him away from the mass of dancers before they knocked them both over again. The dim, flashing lights rested on the stranger’s face, and Ryan nearly shoved him away.

“You…”

“Yeah, I know, shit move, sorry. Want me to buy you a drink as an apology?” Michael flashed him a coy smile. Ryan stared at him, hard. The other didn’t have a trace of recognition in his dark eyes, was still ignorantly sizing him up like he could flirt with Ryan, like they were just two strangers meeting by chance, finding each other attractive, going home together… Pieces of memory flashed in his mind. He was faintly aware of Michael’s charming smile fading into a look of concern. “Uh, you okay? I didn’t actually hurt you, did I? Hit your head or something?”

“I’m fine,” Ryan said. Oh how those words didn’t apply to so many aspects of his… lack of life. He mechanically let go of Michael’s biceps, but didn’t lose his distance.

“If you say so. You don’t come here often, do you?”

“No, not… recently.” A group of women danced and shoved their way through the pair, and Ryan clenched his fists. Michael merely stepped back up to him once they passed through, still looking up at him like he was unsure how to read him.

He should have turned the other way. Left the club. Forget he saw anything. It was for the best. “If you want something to drink, I have better stuff at my place, if you’re still interested,” he said instead.

Michael’s eyes widened slightly, and he considered the offer, just for a moment.

“Oh, uh, sure. Lead the way.” Michael carefully looped his arm around Ryan’s, letting the other lead him out of the club, down the street.

He didn’t even have to use any blood magic to have Michael stumbling home with him. How interesting.

 

-

 

Michael tugged the sleeves of his jacket further down his arms as he walked beside the guy from the bar. The sun had set hours ago, and even though it wasn’t winter yet, a chill had settled in the air. It wasn't really _that_ cold, but for SoCal, it wasn't great. Plus he wasn't even close to drunk; didn't have the usual flush of alcohol to keep him warm. 

He kept subtly glancing over the other man. Tall, pale, handsome – in a brooding sort of way. A lot of people looked like him around here, Michael couldn’t help but think. Usually he had been smart to steer clear of them. But this one… there was something about him.

“Are you cold?” the man asked, noticing the way Michael was starting to huddle into his jacket. He shot him a smile.

“I’ll be fine. Just not used to the temperature drop, is all.”

“Ah,” The other glanced around, before tugging at the black leather jacket he was wearing, and hanging it over Michael’s shoulders.

“Oh, you don’t –”

“I insist, I need more than a midnight stroll to make myself sick.”

Michael held his gaze for a moment, before nodding. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, smelling the fresh cut leather, and something earthy on top of that. It was a sweet gesture, if a bit old fashioned. He shoved his hands in the pockets, unsure of what to say in response. He watched the pavement in front of them, the yellowed streetlamps and the cars passing. When he watched a cab cruise by, he realized it was odd that they were still walking. “Not taking a cab?” he managed to ask.

“I live close by.” He put a hand on Michael’s back, guiding him across the street. The man didn’t seem particularly concerned about watching where he was walking; Michael tensed as he heard the hard screech of brakes, and a horn blaring. Before he was even back on sidewalk, a line of cars were speeding behind them, wind whipping along the back of his neck. He grit his teeth, stomach twisting at the unbidden images that were brought to the forefront of his mind. It was stupid, what were the chances of that happening to him twice?

“Not a fan of cars?” the other asked. He did it politely, but it was almost as though he knew exactly what Michael was thinking. Michael just shrugged in response.

“Lots of shit drivers in this town.” The stranger’s gaze shined an iridescent blue, scrutinizing him for a pregnant pause before eventually turning his gaze back to the pavement in front of them.

“Do you speak as the driver or the pedestrian?”

“Pedestrian. Got hit by a car a few months back, actually.” He crossed his arms, holding his stomach. The scars had faded fast – scarily fast – but he remembered what had happened in the moment, where he’d been cut open and left to bleed out until the first responders had gotten there. He hadn’t meant to say that so casually. It just slipped out. “It hurt like a motherfucker for a while – but then I got patched up, felt better than before I got hit, actually. I don’t know, some new drug or something. Ever since then…” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know if he wanted to explain it – how his life after the accident was like night and day. On a physical level, he couldn’t be happier, but in other ways… he felt half empty. Searching, _longing_ for something else. But that was stupid, too crazy to say out loud.

“I’m sorry you were in pain.”

“Uh, yeah. It happens, I guess. Knew what I was getting into when I moved here. Well, sort of. I didn’t expect this place to be so – uh…”

“Like the legions of hell had infiltrated and made this city their personal stomping grounds?”

Michael squinted, looking over at the other. “Yeah, whatever you say, Dante’s Inferno. I was just gonna say ‘sketchy as fuck’, but nice job out-classing me.”

“My most sincere apologies.” Michael smiled, rolling his eyes. Sarcastic asshole. He was already too endeared to the guy. Usually he tried to avoid his type, from the rumors circulating around the city, they always seemed to be involved in gangs or drugs or some sort of shady business. Jeremy wasn't exactly exaggerating when he expressed worry about him going out by himself all the time. But he got an itch to scratch, and the parties, drinking, fucking - well, they didn't really work. But they came closer than anything else did. Even so, he tried to keep a modicum of sense about where he went, and who he went off with. But despite a million instincts that had kept Michael away from people who looked liked this stranger, the man seemed strangely soothing. Safe. And anyway, it looked like he wasn’t leading him down an alley to get shanked, if the luxury apartments at the end of the block were what they were walking towards. Too late to make an excuse and turn back, at any rate. “And how is the rest of the city when it isn’t full of shadows?”

“Uh, well. I don’t do much – I wait tables part time at a diner by the water, go to a school nearby for HVAC stuff – nothing fancy, but I guess I can’t complain; as not-great as some neighborhoods are around here, the rent is dirt cheap, and the fact that it stays warm year round is a bonus.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” He shot Michael a sharp smile, before fishing a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocking the front door. Michael barely caught a glimpse of the lobby, instead being dragged into the nearby elevator, which rumbled to life as it shot up to the higher floors. Michael forced himself to relax, arms going to his sides – only for the other man to grip one of his hands, entwining their fingers.

“You’re rather cold for living somewhere so warm,” the man said, turning his hand over to kiss his wrist. Michael swallowed thickly. He hadn’t been expecting that. This guy seemed way too old school – hand kissing and jacket sharing? What was next, a sonnet? But – he liked it. It made him feel… something. _Special,_ his mind supplied, but even that word seemed lacking.

Enough of foreplay, Michael thought. He was itching for _something_ again. “Maybe we can skip the drink and go straight to you warming me up?” He looked up through his eyelashes at the other man, hoping he was laying on the charm thick enough.

His hand was dropped, and the other man stepped out of the elevator as soon as the doors parted. Unlocking his apartment door and pushing it open, he gestured for Michael to walk through first; he should have felt some level of trepidation, but instead he passed through the threshold without a second thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan had faint memories of being a human. Feeling sun on his skin and not crying out in pain; needing glasses to see; having to work a normal job; feeling tired and needing copious amounts of something caffeinated and saccharine to get him through the day. The sharpest reflection was not of a specific event, but the loneliness he felt near the end of his life. The trials and tribulations he had gone through to find someone to date, or at least hook up with, which of course led to his Embrace and Turning in the first place… 

Becoming a vampire meant shedding all those marks of humanity – and many more he couldn’t recall if he tried. He couldn’t eat or drink anything that wasn’t blood, rarely slept. Even sex, apparently, was off the table. That last part had been explained to him by other vampires. All their nutrition, pleasure, and sexual gratification was replaced by feeding. Even if the downstairs equipment still technically worked, nearly all other vampires seemed to deem it beneath themselves to bother. 

Although it was noted that only Malkavains tended to be ‘off their rocker’ enough to still attempt sex. With the permanently paused heart, Ryan still didn’t know how it worked exactly, but he never let that stop him from going through with it on multiple occasions. It was pleasurable too, with the right partner. 

Ryan unlocked the door to his apartment, gesturing for Michael to walk through first. Again, he moved inside without needing even the tiniest hint of suggestion. Ryan followed, flicking on the lights as he shut the door behind him.

“Whoa, nice place,” Michael murmured. “I don’t know why, but I figured you’d be in a – never mind.” Even though Michael didn’t finish his thought, the image of Ryan’s old apartment flashed in his mind. 

“I moved, recently,” Ryan offered. Michael merely nodded, continuing to look around. At least until Ryan gently put his hand on the back of his neck, dragging him against the closed door and pressing their mouths together in a kiss. 

Ryan hated to admit it, but he could feel his own desperation seep through his actions. He hadn’t seen Michael in months, not since before he cleaned up this sorry excuse for a city, cleared out the warring factions, and gave the streets a chance to calm down, tying off any remaining loose ends. He had forgotten how potent a blood bond could be. It was like Michael was calling to him. He could hear whispers in the man’s voice, pleading to stay by his side, to never leave him again. He pulled away with a groan, watching Michael run his tongue over his bottom lip. “Wow, that…” he didn’t finish his thought. 

“Bedroom?” Ryan supplied.

“Fuck. Yes, please.” 

Ryan led Michael through his living room, up a set of stairs, down the hall. Michael’s skin felt so warm, flushed with blood that was in turn filled with arousal. He didn’t fight back when Ryan pushed at his chest, sending him sprawling onto the mattress. He certainly made a pretty picture; dark hair with a brassy tint in wild curls, pale, freckled skin, mouth red and begging for more kisses. “Undress,” Ryan commanded. He wasn’t sure if he had used any persuasion with his words, or if Michael’s old bonds made him obey him without question, but the other was quick to take off his jacket, throw his t-shirt over his head, and slide his jeans and underwear down narrow hips, kicking them off along with his shoes and socks. Ryan’s own process was slower, lazy in comparison. Michael watched, still biting at his lip as Ryan stripped down to nothing, crawling over Michael and kissing him once more. He nipped at Michael’s jaw, just teasing, and Michael’s legs spread wider for him. “Someone’s eager,” he taunted with a smirk.

“I – I can’t help it,” Michael whined, hips thrusting up against where Ryan had pressed his thigh between his legs. “Just, God, something about you – who are you?” 

If Ryan had been more prudent, smart, or sane, he would have paused. Or maybe he would have even pulled back and forced Michael to forget their encounter; have him dress himself and head out. He had done that before, for Michael’s own safety, and now he was going back on his words because, like it or not, he had grown too fond of his pet to let him go after spotting him in a chance encounter. 

But he was a Malkavian, and try as he might to reign in the tendencies of his own bloodline, he was still impulsive, finicky, and possessive. He wasn’t about to let Michael go a second time. 

At least, not without getting what he wanted.

“Call me Ryan,” he said, and the admission seemed to soothe something in Michael’s mind. Not a straight answer, but enough to anchor some anxieties on. Ryan ran his hands down the other’s sides, grabbing his ass to thrust him up against his thigh as he kissed his neck. Michael’s hands scrabbled for purchase, scratching at his back and whining desperately in his ear.

“I – I’m Michael,” the other stuttered. Ryan resisted the knee-jerk reaction to say that he already knew that.

“Michael, a lovely name,” Ryan said with a smile, thumb brushing the hard line of the man’s jaw. “I should have guessed it, it suits you.” He saw the other’s face grow pink, and he shyly glanced away.

“Oh, um, thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, you know? Usually I’m way more wasted before I let anybody take me home.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “Don’t know why I said that, I guess I can’t fucking shut up, can I? Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ryan said gently, “I find that the most interesting truths can be revealed if one keeps talking out loud.” Michael blinked, then smiled.

“Sure got a way with words, don’t you, Ryan?” He leaned up, kissing him again. It was surprisingly sweet, and Ryan’s eyes slid shut as he deepened the kiss. As Michael pulled away to breathe, Ryan took his bottom lip between his teeth, lightly tugging as they parted; it was enough to draw a gasp out of the man under him. 

“Fuck…” Michael was already panting when they actually moved apart. “Shit, can I – ?” Ryan rolled them over, letting Michael straddle him. He sat up against the headboard when he saw Michael was trailing down his body, leaving kisses along cool skin as he got closer to his cock. 

Ryan knew his heart didn’t beat, but watching Michael settle between his thighs and lick a stripe up the shaft of his cock certainly made something thump hard in his chest. Michael seemed content where he was, pressing kisses to his head, thumb rubbing circles along his hip as his mouth slowly swallowed him down, inch by inch, before pulling back. It didn’t feel quite the same as when he was a human, the sensation of pleasure not quite all-encompassing – but in some ways it was better. He was more sensitive for one, his whole body attuned with its environment at all times. And his luke-warm skin meant that Michael’s mouth felt like an inferno, one he had no problem sinking into.

But maybe the most important factor was Michael himself. He looked so gorgeous, getting lost in the task of making Ryan feel good; a blush was permanently plastered to his cheeks, and his eyes seemed to grow hazy as he focused on his task at hand, staring up at Ryan as he drooled around his cock, taking him deeper into his mouth before pulling back and kissing, licking, teasing, before repeating the process over again in a desperate cycle. 

Ryan was still tempted to force some domination onto Michael every time the two of them made eye contact, but he held back, curious to see what Michael would do unbidden. Instead of magic, he merely threaded a hand through Michael’s curls, tugging gently now and then, just hard enough to draw a choked gasp or a low moan from the other’s mouth. 

“Damn, Ryan,” Michael murmured, lips moving against the wet head of his cock as he talked. “This is – you feel so good on my tongue. Fuck. Is that – weird to say?” His hand was lazily stroking what he couldn’t slip into his mouth. Ryan faintly observed the way Michael was pressing his hips into the mattress, trying to give his own cock some friction while he took care of him.

“It’s not weird,” Ryan soothed, smiling when he cupped Michael’s cheek and the young man leaned into it in response. “You’re doing so well.” When Michael slipped down his cock this time, he gasped, his back arching when he felt the head of his cock slip down into Michael’s throat. Fuck. Well. His Michael was certainly livelier when not under the influence of magic. Michael swallowed, throat fluttering around him, and Ryan couldn’t hold back a moan. It took everything he had not to thrust harshly up into Michael’s mouth and gag him.

Michael pulled back, drawing in a large gasp of air as he worked Ryan’s slick cock in his fist. He had a hungry look in his dark eyes now, almost something dangerous. It was enough to make Ryan’s toes curl in the blankets, and tug at Michael’s roots harder than before, drawing a hiss from the other as he sucked on the head of his cock, the hint of teeth scraping along sensitive skin making Ryan’s nerve endings light up, pushing him towards the edge. “Nng, fuck, Michael,” he growled. His other hand went to the back of Michael’s neck. Ryan could feel the rush of blood running from Michael’s heart up to his head, the vibrations of his still beating heart pumping now sounded louder than the music at the club, and every minute that stretched on was just making him more and more desperate for a drink. 

Michael slipped his mouth off his cock again, and Ryan was about to whine, or shout a command, anything. “F-fuck… Fuck, Ryan,” he panted, before shooting him an absolutely filthy smirk. “Come in my mouth?” he asked sweetly, hand squeezing his shaft as Michael pressed his tongue against his glans. 

Ryan cried out, hips thrusting up and hands shoving down as he came on Michael’s tongue and down his throat. For one strange moment, everything around him went quiet. Even the voices in his head stilled. The only shred of consciousness that remained was solely focused on Michael. His Michael. Talented and beautiful and still so very delicious. 

He blinked his eyes open and slowly relaxed his limbs. Michael pulled off his cock, and he shivered when the he didn’t sit up, but instead leaned forward again and licked Ryan’s still twitching cock clean. 

“Michael – Michael, oh –” He struggled to sit up again, and Michael followed suit and – fuck, his lips were spit-slick and shiny with his come, too. He grinned up at Ryan, looking as dazed as Ryan felt. “That was – amazing. Very good.” 

“I want to make you feel good,” he answered, like it really was the only thing he wanted to do. A shiver distantly passed through Ryan’s spine.

“Come here,” he murmured, spreading his arms wide. “Now it’s your turn.” Michael tumbled into his lap, and Ryan’s arm immediately went around his back, holding him close. He kissed him again, and Michael moaned helplessly against his lips. He squirmed when Ryan’s hand circled his dick, giving it a slow pump as he pressed his lips down his jaw, to his neck, then shoulder, then back up again. Warm, flushed skin and against his mouth and hot blood running just underneath that. Ryan swore he was feeling heady just from being so close to Michael’s jugular, the sweet human still whining for Ryan to touch him more. And as fun as it was to tease, he was still sentimental, and he quickly began to stroke Michael, sharp movements that had Michael gasping and made his muscles tense, arms going tight around Ryan’s shoulders as he drew closer and closer to orgasm. 

And while he was distracted, Ryan eyed the human’s neck, his jugular more pronounced as Michael clenched his jaw and sucked in desperate breaths of air. Ryan kissed along the artery, his fangs catching on the thin skin of Michael’s throat; it drew a groan from the boy, but nothing more. No alarm bells were going off in his head, too overwhelmed by pleasure to care what Ryan was doing – or about to do – to him.

“Are you close, Michael?” Ryan whispered against his skin. Michael jerked his head in a nod. The poor boy couldn’t even speak. He could feel Michael shake against him, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as he let out a weak moan. His heart pounded beneath his skin, and Ryan couldn’t hold back any longer. “Come for me, my dear,” he commanded, his voice echoing with a hint of Persuasion, and just like that Michael was tumbling over the edge, crying out as he came, warm and sticky all over his stomach, and then again when Ryan’s fangs pierced his flesh and drank. 

It was true that every person had a distinct taste. Usually the better off a person lived, the tastier they were. Some breeds of vampires could feed off of animals, while others could only stomach the finest of specimens. Ryan was somewhere in the middle, and had never been exceptionally picky. But Michael had always been a favorite. He wasn’t sure why; if it was because he usually fed from him in situations like this, and the sexual gratification in the air lent to a better taste, or if it was the simple fact that Michael had a part of his own vampiric blood coursing in him. His own sired creature, a man turned into a ghoul who had adored him unquestioningly, before Ryan had sent him away all those months ago. Even now, there was a remnant of powerful vitae flowing through him. In a way, Michael was the familiar; he tasted of a home that Ryan had thought he had forever given up. 

Rediscovering how delicious the younger man was, he had to force himself to stop, and reluctantly pulled away after some moments. He greedily licked the remaining taste off his lips and teeth. Michael slumped against him, spent twice over. Ryan kissed the spot he had bitten, and was about to place Michael on the bed to sleep off any dizziness he felt when Michael drew in a sharp breath of air and reared back, staring wide-eyed at Ryan.

“You,” he started, voice disbelieving. Ryan blinked. “You’re… you’re what I’ve been looking for all this time.” Michael put a hand over the quickly healing wound on his neck, and his eyes flashed with a dawning realization. “You’re my master.” 

Ryan, for all his skills in improvisation, could only stare back. “Um,” he said.

“I – you – I thought you were just some guy and then you bit me and everything came flooding back. It wasn’t a dream then, was it? It – you – you saved me, you made me yours, and then – what did you do?”

Ryan swallowed. He could have tried to lie, or better yet, force his magic over Michael’s mind like a veil, make him believe that was all just another dream, or drive him into more insane musings. But he found himself hesitating. Perhaps it was the reminder of the taste of his blood, or the hint of human fondness he felt when he searched the other’s large, brown eyes. 

“Michael,” he said, putting his hand on Michael’s cheek. At first the other moved back slightly, as though afraid that he would be tricked again, but the bond of their blood seemed to settle him, and he let Ryan cup his cheek, nuzzling into the other’s cool hand as his thumb stroked along a spatter of freckles. “I’m… sorry I sent you away. Made you think that I was just a vision from a pleasant dream. Were you really that torn?”

Michael’s eyes drifted downward, his hands twisting together, gnarled and tense. “At first I thought it was nothing, but… there were too many blank spots in my memory, and after a while, I found myself… itching for something I couldn’t explain.” He swallowed. “My body was so hungry for it, but I didn’t even know what I wanted. I tried everything Ryan, food, sex, drugs, drinking until I couldn’t see straight, but… nothing ever really worked.” 

“You’ve gone without my blood for some time now,” Ryan mused. “But the bond is still there, weak, but ever present. Even when I sent you away, you couldn’t escape it.” If Ryan had known, maybe he would have let Michael stay, or at least, tracked him down sooner. His poor boy must have suffered terribly without him.

“Why? What did I do that made you want to get rid of me? Was I too much trouble? Did I do something wrong? The only time I’ve felt – not normal I guess but – but right again was tonight, when I was with you. If you hated having me around, then why didn’t you just kill me?” 

“I never wanted to kill you, Michael,” Ryan said, revolted at the idea. He kissed Michael’s forehead and drew him closer to him. “I saved you, don’t you remember?” 

Michael snorted. “’Course I remember. Well, now I do. Some EMTs scraped me off the pavement after a hit and run and I was left to bleed out or go into shock in some shitty clinic. And… you gave me some of your blood to save me. But then you just disappeared into the night until I tracked you down.”

Ryan winced. “I seem to be making a habit of leaving you alone, don’t I?”

“Why?” Michael asked, voice even quieter than before. “Was – was giving me your blood a mistake? Am I…” 

“The only mistake I’ve made was not giving my pet his due attention,” Ryan said carefully. “You must understand that this city was undergoing the most horrible exchanges. Different clans of vampires running rampant, vvying for control of this city.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m not an old vampire. I was turned perhaps half a year ago, pushed around and led astray by a dozen elders, used like a pawn, sent on suicide missions…” He shook his head. “I left you at first because I was worried you would become… upset, and draw attention to myself, and my kind.”

“And the second time?”

“Things were coming to an end. A dangerous and bloody one. I had to set you free. If I hadn’t – the home we shared together was raided by creatures more powerful than a ghoul. They would have killed you. It was an altruistic gesture on my part, I promise you. I know now, as soon as the dust had cleared, I should have found you. I naively assumed you would have gone back to your normal life after I set you free, with hardly a breath lost. But – I hurt you.”

“You did,” Michael agreed, holding Ryan’s hand. “But you only did it to try to give me the best life you could. And, before that, you saved my life. Made it better, in some ways. You said I’m a ghoul?”

“I may feed from you, but I also give you my own blood. In exchange, you gain extra strength and speed, heal easily, age slowly.” Ryan moved his hand up and carded his fingers through Michael’s curls. “I deeply regret not keeping you by my side as soon as it was safe. Can you forgive me?”

Michael sucked in a breath, and looked away for a long moment. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. Was he angry? Afraid? If Ryan let him in, would he only be setting himself up for a future betrayal? He forced himself to remain calm and still like stone, and to not fight Michael on whatever answer he came up with. After abandoning him not once, but twice, he certainly had no right to claim control over the other unless he wished it.

“If,” Michael started, “If things get bad again, dangerous. Will you just warn me? And send me away with my memories and a way to contact you when everything blows over again?”

“I hope this city will remain free of any truly horrible feuds, but. Yes. You have my word.” 

Michael nodded. “I – being here, with you, it feels…” He sighed. “I want to stay. Will you let me?”

“It’s not even a question, my pet, of course.” Ryan pressed a kiss to Michael’s lips. “I’d like nothing more,” he murmured, “than to have you by my side for as long as you wish.” Michael gave him a careful, but exuberant smile, and leaned more into the vampire, until Ryan enveloped him in his arms. In the back of his mind, he reminded himself that they were covered in a sheen of sweat, and perhaps they’d like to shower, and Michael certainly looked sleepy. So he would suggest that they should move… Eventually. For now, he nuzzled his face in Michael’s bare shoulder, breathed in the scent of his skin, listened to his pulse, and enjoyed the sensation of having his pet next to him, just as it should be.

 

-

 

There were more people out on Saturdays. Even late at night, the place was half full; drunk kids younger than him trying to sober up with a tall order of cheeseburgers and fries; couples who finished date night and wanted another hour to unwind before going home, and, of course, a few tall, dark, and handsomes – the ones that had always made the hair on the back of Michael’s neck tingle for no real reason. But now, of course, he knew their secret – and thanks to Ryan’s blood, he felt safe. 

He wasn’t as strong as actual vampires, of course, but he wasn’t an easy target either, compared to every other human in this city. And anyway, Ryan said this place was infinitely safer than just a season ago. So long as he avoided going into back alleys by himself or giving out his address to strange looking people. The same steps he needed to take to avoid getting mugged more or less translated into not becoming a random blood bag. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Jeremy said from the window. Michael couldn’t help but smile at him in response, which only made Jeremy raise his eyebrow further in suspicion.

“Sorry, uh, tips are good tonight.” He added, shrugging helplessly.

“Uh-huh. Hey, since I wasn’t in yesterday – how’d your Thursday night work out? Have fun?” Michael knew Jeremy had been staring at the bruise on his neck. The puncture wounds had healed, but he was still left with the purple and yellow mottled markings. 

“Lots of fun, yeah,” Michael said. “And I was careful,” he added, not a fan of the way Jeremy was staring. A few tables came up to the front to pay their bill, and Michael hopped onto the register to check them out. His side of the diner was practically empty now, save for the tables piled with empty soda cups and mostly finished entrees. “If no one comes in for the next half hour do you think I can head out?” he asked.

“Why? Going out again?”

“Nah, not tonight. I just… I don’t know, I miss being home.” He tapped the counter before walking around the side. “I’ll let you think about it,” he said, shooting Jeremy a playful wink as he set to clearing his tables and wiping them down. More people filed out, and the restaurant was empty aside from two tables on the opposite side of the diner. Just as Michael was done sweeping up the bits of napkin and stray lettuce leaves that had fallen under the tables, the bell above the diner’s door rang, and Michael curiously glanced over. 

It was Ryan. Michael resisted the urge to go over to him, instead nodding at the other and dumping the dustbin into the trash behind the counter. He ducked into the kitchen to put away the broom and wash his hands. He glanced over and saw Jeremy had walked away from the grill, looking out the window and into the restaurant. 

“What is it?” Michael asked, drying his hands.  
“That guy that just walked in. You know him?”

“Yeah. Why?” Jeremy squinted.

“He’s… Suspicious looking.” Michael snorted.

“What, think he’s gonna rob the place?”

“Maybe.” Just then, Ryan’s wandering gaze locked onto the two of them. Jeremy jumped in his skin slightly, while Michael just waved. Ryan took a seat at the counter, not taking his eyes of either of them. “God, that’s creepy,” Jeremy whispered. He turned back to the grill. “Go see what he wants.”

Michael left the kitchen again and leaned forward onto the countertop. Ryan’s expression was playful, eyes glancing up and down at Michael before looking around the rest of the establishment.

“Came to see where I worked?” 

“Yes. And I got a bit bored, I’ll admit.”

“Thought you were meeting with those other – uh, you know. Club members.” Ryan gave him an amused look. “What? What do you want me to say?”

“The meeting was dull. As I mentioned, things aren’t as… exciting as they used to be. For the better, of course.” Michael was internally elated. Ryan had given Michael a more in-depth summary of the underworld of the city, mentioned he was working with a faction of rebel vampires that were doing their best to keep the city safe and free of bureaucratic red tape. The fact that Ryan wanted to see him and sought him out instead of spending the rest of the night with ‘his kind’, well, it made him feel special. “There was some odd activity in the hills,” Ryan supplied, “I took care of it. I can tell you more at home.” God, home. The word sent a burst of warm relief through Michael. He had only been back to his apartment long enough to gather some stuff, pack it in a suitcase, and then he was right back at Ryan’s. His apartment was world’s nicer than Michael’s, and it was in a safe, chic neighborhood, and there was Ryan in it, of course. It was perfect.

“I’d love to hear all about it, but I don’t think Jeremy’s gonna let me go early tonight. He’s a bit suspicious of you,” he said, speaking quietly in case his friend was eavesdropping. “And maybe a little jealous.” 

Ryan straightened up slightly. “Why don’t you send him over here? I could convince him.”

“…Convince him nicely,” Michael added. “And if it’s not working then I’ll stay the extra hour, okay? He might be a little overprotective, but he’s still my friend.” Ryan nodded.

“I promise.” 

Michael waltzed back into the kitchen. “Well?” Jeremy asked. “Did he hit on you? You two looked like you were having fun out there.”

“Nah, we were just catching up. Haven’t seen him in a while and he just came back into town a few nights ago. I told him that you make the best burgers in town, and he wants to ask you for recommendations.” 

“I – really?” Jeremy’s eyes went wide. “He wants a burger?”

“A man’s gotta eat, right?” Michael said, almost daring Jeremy to say something contrarian. 

After a long pause, Jeremy shook his head. “I guess. I’ll be right back.” Michael watched Jeremy go through the door, and stroll up to Ryan. The pair exchanged a few words, but halfway through the conversation, Ryan took up most of the talking, with Jeremy listening with a transfixed look on his face, nodding along to the words. It was probably a bit morally ambiguous, but Ryan could alter opinions and actions with slight nudges, ways that wouldn’t be felt in any serious way. And honestly, who hadn’t been willing to do almost anything to get out of work early? Michael’s feet had been aching for the last two hours anyway. He definitely deserved this.

Jeremy and Ryan both laughed, and Jeremy clapped Ryan on the shoulder before meandering back into the kitchen. “Michael!”

“What, did he order something?”

“No, he introduced himself as your boyfriend. Told me you two have been together for almost six months. I didn’t realize you had a long distance relationship going on with him.” Michael blinked, then nodded overzealously. 

“Oh – oh yeah! I just, you know, didn’t want to rub it in anyone’s face.” 

Jeremy smiled kindly at him. “I’m happy for you two, he seems like a great guy. I’m glad he’s finally back in town for good.” There was no trace of confusion or irony on Jeremy’s face as he spoke. “You should head out early with him tonight. He told me he had something special planned.”

Michael tried to keep his own face in a mask of polite surprise. “Really? You sure?”

“Yeah, you’ve been here longer than anyone else here, anyway. Just tell him that I won’t let you bail every time, alright? Have fun.” 

“Of course, yeah. Goodnight, Jay!” He headed out of the kitchen, stopping in the locker room to grab his things. He met up with Ryan, and let the other lead him outside. When he looked over his shoulder, Jeremy was already back at the grill. “That was fucking awesome. And really morally gray of me.” 

“You may have to make many less ambivalent decisions to keep those of our kind hidden from humans,” Ryan quietly reminded him. “Think of this as a practice run. And you did incredibly well for someone without any skills of persuasion.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” 

“He seems like a nice, er, person,” Ryan carried on. “And you were right, he did have a fixation on you.”

“Did? You didn’t like, make him hate me, right?”

“No, I was able to discern how much he values fidelity. He believes we’ve been in a partnership for nearly half a year; he’s mature enough to put aside his feelings, especially when he thinks the world of me.” Michael nodded. It felt strange that Ryan could mess with someone’s thoughts by merely talking to them for five minutes or less, but maybe this was better. He didn’t need Jeremy trying to be a white knight and digging into his or Ryan’s personal life – and Jeremy deserved to find someone that would make him happy, too. 

And, yeah, being bound to a powerful, young upstart vampire would probably lend itself to a lot of odd and harrowing adventures in the future. Best to get used to that now, he thought. But he got out of work early and had the rest of the night to spend with Ryan, so he tried not to dwell on the future just yet. Instead playfully nudged his shoulder against Ryan’s. “Jeremy also said you had something special planned for us. Is that true? Or just part of the illusion?”

Ryan gave him a sharp smile. “Now that you mention it, I do believe I have something we can do tonight…” They stopped by the side of the road, Ryan raising his hand to hail a cab. One came into sight almost immediately, and as it pulled to a stop beside them, Michael tugged on Ryan’s shirt, bringing him in for a quick kiss. 

Two days ago there was something inside of him; hungry and desperate, but resistant to everything he tried. And today, for the first time in months, he was finally sated. He got into the cab and sped off into whatever the night – and Ryan – had in store for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Finally finished it. Enjoy the smut and slightly ambiguous (but meant to be happy) ending!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this vampire fic for a while, off and on. I started it after watching a let's play of Vampire: the Masquerade: Bloodlines, a really great RPG from the mid-2000s about warring vampire factions in a decrepit version of modern day L.A. The plot of the game is kind of hinted at here, but basically, Ryan became the new vamp on the block who does a million side quests and puts a multi-clan vampire war to rest. There's a bunch of different classes you can select and alliances you can make, but you don't really need to know the ins and out of the game to get the plot of this fic (since it's pretty much smut with fancy preamble). If you are curious/want me to write more for this AU though, feel free to tell me in the comments! :)


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